


Lying to Yourself

by Name1



Series: Stubborn, Oblivious, and in Denial [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Boska, Cara Dune mentioned, Din Djarin mentioned, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hot, Smut-ish, Unlikely Pairing, angry, vulnerable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1
Summary: Boba Fett and Koska Reeves definitely can't stand the sight of each other. One hundred percent.....but they also spend the night together more evenings than not.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Koska Reeves, Din Djarin/Cara Dune, mentioned
Series: Stubborn, Oblivious, and in Denial [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144148
Comments: 36
Kudos: 69





	Lying to Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. I wanted to do a short kind of sexy 1k one-shot and it turned into something else entirely. Apologies if these two seem OOC. I'm a soft idiot and therefore these two are soft idiots as well :D
> 
> thanks o Lady_Vibeke for helping keep these two idiots on track and tempering my soft mushy tendencies to write badass characters as soft dorks :/

Koska was already tired of this shit planet and its endless deserts. Why couldn't they hole up on a tropical beach planet to regroup and come up with their next plan for once? The light cruiser had been given up to their cause and orbited safely until they could decide whether to take it as a flagship or scrap it for weapons and parts. Her clan leader Bo-Katan had followed the silver-armored Mandalorian and his 'friends' back to the Outer Rim for a moment of respite before the next round of shit got underway. Koska found it was weird being around others but she didn't hate it half as much as she let on. Not that it mattered much anyway--Mando and his friend Cara had taken off once he was in the right headspace to do so after giving up his kid to someone who he felt could do a better job raising him. Watching his emotional turmoil as he came to terms with that loss had made her uncomfortable but they'd all been on the same ship and there was simply nowhere to look away. She wasn't used to seeing people being selfless or vulnerable and it showed. Once he turned to face them, she was surprised the only one who hadn't looked at him had been his closest friend--the woman who was the most Mandalorian _non-Mandalorian_ she had ever met. The two of them had literally walked off into the sunset together to take their own path back to Nevarro, which left the rest of them on Tatooine until they decided their next move.

Those two were some of the biggest clueless idiots she had ever come across, no question about it. If the way those 'friends' undressing each other with their eyes was any measure, she'd bet real credits they wouldn't make it another week without getting in each other's pants. She shifted in her seat as she tried to get the image out of her head but it had been a _long time_ and the image wouldn't leave her alone. She'd pay good money to see _that_ , that's for sure--not just to watch them fuck, but to see them finally realize what's been there all along. It was rare to find someone who truly loved you as you were, faults and all, and she knew they had that--any blind man could see it. ‘Jealous’ wasn't the right word, but she'd love to see a reminder that there was something good in the universe and those two could finally be together like they'd obviously been fighting for and against for a while. Okay, so she'd like to watch the other part too. _She liked to watch, so what?_ It was the next best thing since she never got to experience it herself and watching two people who actually cared about each other was an even greater guilty pleasure. She'd certainly never have something like _that_. She'd never let someone get the better of her ever again or see her vulnerable--not that there was a line out the door or anything. There weren't many people she'd consider an equal so her prospects of finding anyone tolerable and worth her time were nil. She'd built up her walls so high no one would even attempt to climb over them anymore and she'd never trust anyone enough to put her on her back--literally or figuratively.

She thought of her friend who was like a sister to her. She had never lied to Bo-Katan as long as she'd known her. She'd follow her to the edge of the universe and back and there was no room for secrets between them after the shit they'd lived through together. Their cause, their people, and their way of life was what they both lived for now. Nothing else mattered--nothing else ever _had_ and nothing else ever _would_. For her many, _many_ faults, honesty was the one thing Koska could tout. She prided herself on it, but it was easy to tell the truth when there was simply nothing else. There was no reason to lie when there was nothing worth lying about. They had each other and their small clan and not a whole lot else and that wasn't likely to change so they made do and clung tight. She wouldn't lose anyone else if she could help it. It was true what they said-- no one can ever leave you if you don't let them in the door to begin with. 

Another patron walked into the bar she'd spent the better part of the day in and it caught her attention. She was always on edge in this strange town on Tatooine and the time for daydreaming wasn't now. Bo had some meetings elsewhere and Koska was unaccustomed to being alone and potentially jumped without backup. She knew she could take anyone in this town, but it still put her on edge. Plenty of people hunted Mandalorians and she wasn't in the mood to suffer any fools who wanted a go. She quickly returned to her beer after the idiot teenager walked in and simply joined his friends for a drink. _No Threat there. Ugh. Damn kids....._

She needed something better to do with her afternoon than people watching in this watering hole. Too bad there was nothing to pique her interest for miles. She supposed she could go do some weapons practice in the hills, but it wasn't what she needed. She needed a real distraction--something that would either piss her off or get her blood hot--either one was fine. Looking back, she thought it was almost as if she had manifested him with that single thought. Sometimes the universe likes to fuck with you, and it was clearly her turn when a heavy set of footfalls made their way into the cantina. She hears people scatter and before she even looks up she knows who it is without seeing past his knees. _Ugh. Great. Just what she needed._

Boba Fett. 

The other ' _not a Mandalorian_ ' Mandalorian who had a mouth almost as big as hers. He knew how to rub her the wrong way that's for sure. She should hate everything about him but she found herself warming up to this asshole after their mission together

.... _maybe_......

…a _tiny bit_.....

Truth was, he was a more than halfway decent pilot who helped Mando get the child back and seemed to be a man of his word. That was more than she could say about half the ' _honorable_ ' people she knew. He came at her and got in her face the first time they met--a first impression that stuck with her. At least he wasn't just all talk like most pompous asshats she'd come across. He was ready to back it up and their brief scuffle had been the most entertainment she'd had in weeks. Not many could call Bo-Katan ' _princess_ ' to her face like that either .... He had balls. It had gotten her attention in a not unpleasant way.

"Fancy seeing you here, girl," he drawls as he steps closer to her table where she's sitting alone. The bar had emptied out, so it was just them and the bartender who had made himself scarce. Being called 'girl' was a sore spot she'd had almost forever. She looked younger than she was and while she was plenty muscular, she didn't have the bulk many others in her tribe boasted. She knew she did a poor job of hiding her distaste at the moniker by the way his helmet tilted in victory. Either that or he just somehow _knew_ it got under her skin. 

"I'm here to get drunk," she replies, practically spitting the words at him. "Please tell me if you know a better place than a bar to accomplish that."

"Easy girl," he says and makes a placating gesture with his hands that only serves to get under her skin even more. "Not trying to rile you up." _Bullshit_.

"Maybe you just have that effect on people," she suggests, taking another sip of her drink.

He couldn't suppress his laugh. ""Maybe I do."

"Explains why everyone else left then," she observes. "You're the life of the party."

"You're still here though," he says, looking around at the empty room, "so either you've been waiting for me all day or you're severely lacking in self-preservation."

"My self-preservation is just fine," she scoffs.

"Sorry I kept you waiting then."

Koska repressed a groan. _Ugh this man infuriated her. He was witty if not outright rude, and it was such a rare thing to come across it threw her a bit._

"You come back to lose another fight?" she sneered, as he stood in front of her.

His reply only served to fuel the fire. "I must have hit you harder than I thought if you have memory loss."

She felt herself getting ready for a brawl. "You want this bar to yourself, you'll have to try harder. I can handle both you _and_ your high opinion of yourself."

"I wouldn't count on it," he mocked, "but I'd love to see you try."

_Shit. What was her deal?_ she thought. She never backed down from a fight but this felt like she was walking into something else entirely. She was actually drawn to him as much as she hated to admit it; his voice or his cockiness perhaps, or maybe his shit talking or his stance that oozed confidence. The feeling that was creeping up her belly wasn't disdain at all. She hated it but was intrigued by it as well.

"Want to go another round and settle it?" she asks impulsively, before she can think better of it.

He made a noncommittal noise as if he was considering it. "Your little _handler_ did break up the fight before, so we never got to finish it," he conceded. "I'd hate to mess up your pretty blue armor though."

She let her tongue slide across her front teeth behind her pursed lips. She was having a really hard time keeping herself in check. The fact that she hadn't lunged at him already was testament to her tiny bit of remaining self-control. Bo-Katan would be proud of her resolve.

"You want to go out back to throw down so we don't wreck this bar when I kick your ass?" she suggests. She didn't want to break another table like last time.

"Sweetheart I was kicking ass when you were in ribbons and onesies." He gave her an exaggerated once over from her helmet down to her boots and she could feel his grin from behind his helmet. "....kind of like the cute one you're wearing now under all that beskar and durasteel. I see you left the ribbons at home."

She stood from her chair in a swift motion, her adrenaline driving her completely on autopilot to get in his face. "I'd love to wring your neck with one."

His amused chuckle didn't help the situation. "You got a lotta shit-talk for such a little thing. You're scrappy though. I'll give you that."

She bared her teeth at him. _If he called her little one more time she'd--_

She didn't even get the chance to finish her thought. He turned his back to her before she could even get out a comeback and she followed him out the door to the back alley, sliding her helmet on as she went. 

They were barely in the safety of the empty alleyway before they were on each other and fists were flying. The sounds of grunts and panting and armor on armor were deafening. They went at each other full-tilt and every time her knee made contact with his chest she felt a spike of satisfaction. He managed to get her on the ground a few times and landed an embarrassingly number of good shots, but she was faster than he was, though he had the size and strength advantage. She barraged his center of mass with her fists, but his armor covered his sides more than she was expecting. Only by twisting his arm up and around did she manage to land any blows to his ribs at all. A kick to the side of her knee was strong enough to make her let go before barreling into him head-first to knock him off balance. Blasters, knives, and lethal weapons seemed to be off limits by unspoken decree which was fine with her. She wanted a piece of him with her bare hands anyway. Her head rang as he got in a good headshot to her helmet but didn't try to knock it off. In her second of distraction he reached under her thigh to pull her leg out from under her. He pinned her hard, but didn't go for the vulnerable points that would really cause damage--a _kindness_ she reciprocated when she bucked him off her and got the upper hand. The blows and passion behind them were real, but it was clearly for fun and to settle a score; not a fight meant for death or dismemberment.

They were both slowing down as their muscles grew fatigued at the adrenaline starting to wear off. She felt victorious when she pinned him and she knew it was almost over. His arms stretched up her shoulders and toward her neck but came up short thanks to her much longer torso. To rub her prized spot of victory in his face, she scooted back down his body even more until his hands gripped the collar of her chest plate and couldn't make a grab for her neck to pull her down or roll her again. His belt had a metal closure and she shifted down to accommodate the soft material lining the seat of her pants. It wasn't until she shifted again to get more comfortable so she could mock him that she felt him surprisingly hard underneath her. She rocked her hips deliberately against the length of him and they both jolted at the surprise spike of pleasure. _Fuck_. She liked it. He obviously did too.

"This get you goin?" she sneers teasingly, though it loses part of its sting through her helmet. "Didn't know you could still get it up at your age." She almost wished he could see her shit eating grin. 

"Sweetheart, I'll take what I can get, and don't you worry about my age."

_Typical selfish man,_ she thinks. "Let me give you a refresher," she says as she leans forward until their helmets are almost touching. "You take what I _give_ you."

"And what are you going to give me in this alley?"

"You get nothing," she growled, as she realized she had forgotten herself for a second. In her moment of blind lust she had totally forgotten their locale. She was basically cutting off her nose to save her face though--in denying him she was denying herself even more. He let out a grunt when her weight pushed off him roughly. She got herself to a standing position before resting her boot on the center of his chest. “I won.”

“I _let_ you win," he insists so confidently she thinks he might actually believe it. " I felt sorry for your delicate ego.”

She scoffed, but it sounded too much like a laugh even to her own ears. _Was this idiot for real? Even on his back he knew how to get at her._

She rolled her eyes and curled her lip in distaste. "Oh, please....."

"You don't have to say please," he mocks her, "I'll give you a rematch any time you want."

"Not a chance" she said in parting before she walked out of the alley, her hips swaying more than they had before. "I can't stand you."

“You'll be back,” he confidently calls out to her.

“Don't count on it,” she retorts, her response echoing in the alleyway. She flips him off for good measure.

...................

**She was back**. 

She didn't deny herself this time. At least she had the state of mind to drag him back to her tiny apartment after their quick fight just for show got them both worked up. She pushed him into the only sturdy chair in the room and she didn’t miss that he let himself be pushed. Before he could even shift his armor to accommodate the seat, she had crawled into his lap to straddle him.

His hands hovered over her hips but not making contact yet. “So you want to fight or---?”

“Skip the fighting," she says, to cut him off brusquely. "I want to continue where we left off." 

He laughs at that and it makes her bristle and freeze above him. “If you're uninterested, say so," she sneers. She won't tolerate being laughed at.

"Defensive much?" he asks knowingly, at her prickly response. "I think you could feel how very _not_ -uninterested I was before."

"And what about now?"

His hands finally rest against her hips and she had her answer.

……

They were in such a hurry that the armor and helmets stayed on. Their hurried and completely clothed tryst in the chair was somehow so much hotter than taking time and undressing. She'd been riding him with such an aching desperation they'd barely noticed they were separated by two layers of pants until it was clear it was almost over. He was beyond close and achingly hard under her now. She doubled down on rubbing against him to get herself off as fast as she could. She thought she heard him actually laugh. "It's been a long time since I came in my pants," he admits, "but that's going to happen if you don't ease up."

"Me too,” she admits roughly. “Can't say I'll mind as much as you will though." One of the benefits of being a woman--she could change her panties later without too much fuss, but he'd likely be uncomfortable for however long to took him to find new pants. “You want to stop?”

He pushes back against her to get her moving again. “And give you the satisfaction? Not on your life.”

She's too worked up to tolerate his smart mouth right now. "Good," she gets out through her clenched teeth. "Shut up and put your hands on me. I'll find you a towel when you're done."

He huffed out a sound that made her grin as he reached a still gloved hand between them to help her along. "So generous."

...................

Pretenses just kept falling away as the weeks went on. There was clearly no bad blood between them and they certainly didn't hate each other, no matter how often they insisted they did. She couldn't even really say he annoyed her like she touted.

She'd tried every tactic she knew to watch him abandon ship when she was too much work, but he didn't turn tail and flee even after her best attempts. At her absolute most charming she snapped and growled and lashed out and was prickly and selfish and he just went along with it all, like he knew exactly what she was doing. The fact that he just let her get it all out of her system just pissed her off even more. It was weird when she realized she felt something resembling relief that he wasn't so easily deterred and saw something underneath her hard surface. She was defensive, _definitely to a fault,_ and eager to jump to a fight or find fault with an innocuous comment or perceived slight. For as long as she could remember she always had to prove her strength, her readiness, her unwavering levelheadedness, but for all his numerous insults and barbs he didn't really doubt her strength at all. It was different.....it was almost like they were equals. 

………….

"You going to take that thing off?" she asked, as she reached up to the sides of his helmet with the backs of her hands. There were ways to reach for someone's helmet which forecasted you had no intention of actually removing it and this was one of them. She had taken her helmet off for their daily interludes after the first one over a week ago. It was too damn hard to breathe in that thing and for some reason her lung function seemed to diminish when he had his hands on her. They had taken off the rest of their armor and sat in their favorite chair in their soft bodysuits.

He chuckled and lowered her hands. "You don't want to see this face, trust me," he tells her. "I'm not like you."

She glared at him. "What _am_ I like?" That casual observation got her defenses up. She could practically feel the spikes emerging all over her body waiting for the joking insult. She figured he'd make an age joke.

He surprises her though with his response. "Insufferable as you are, you're beautiful.....and I can assure you I'm not."

She scoffed at him. “You're not _that_ much older than me. Shut up.” She’d never admit it, but she was weirdly angry at herself for feeding into a legitimate insecurity of his--as if she didn’t have plenty of her own. He didn’t seem deterred by her off-putting nature that was a protective shell like the plating she wore, and she wouldn’t be deterred either. At her second nudge, he removes his helmet and sits it beside hers.

She immediately sees what he’s self-conscious of. "We all got scars," she scoffs.

“You don't,” he argues, as he runs the backs of his fingers down the smooth unblemished side of her face. She was shocked that she didn't flinch at such a unfamiliar sensation--she actually leaned into it. His hands were wide and strong, but his skin was surprisingly soft without the gloves in place. 

“All mine are under the skin,” she offers out of nowhere. “You can't see them but trust me, they're there.” She unzips her bodysuit down to her waist and places his hands inside. “Want to try to find them?”

"You're a little shit,” he flatters her as he slides it off her shoulders, exposing all of her smooth heated skin to the cool air and his hungry eyes.

"You didn't answer my question.”

Her knees were straddling his waist so there was nowhere for the material to go, but he managed to shuck her body covering down to her waist. She even gave a shimmy to help.

"You're so soft,” he says as his hands go straight to the tender skin of her breasts. “You sure you've been in a real fight before?"

She feels on fire already where his large hands are kneading her, but she can’t let that slide. "You're an asshole."

"And you're easy to get a rise out of, girl."

"So are you, apparently," she says lewdly as she grinds down and finds him as turned on as she expected.

“Don’t you ever shut up?” he grumbles as he mouths a wet trail down her neck and across her chest before taking a nipple into his searing hot mouth.

His mouth on her breasts and his hand between her legs had been too much and she hadn’t lasted more than a few goddamn minutes. She refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her lose control, but in the end she'd failed. She couldn't believe the noises she’d made as she fell apart. He'd be so smug his head wouldn’t fit back in his helmet but she couldn’t help it.

"What? I haven't earned a kiss?" he asks, as she catches her breath against the side of his face.

“I don't kiss,” she informs him shortly. “Nothing personal, just don't kiss me and don't climb on top of me,” she spells out for him in case they continue this thing for the foreseeable future. “Remember those two things and we square.”

"Got it," he confirms very matter-of-factly. 

“Good.” She was glad he didn’t question her or make a big deal out of it.

"What about here?" he asks, as his mouth works over the sensitive skin of her neck and her head tilts back appreciatively.

“Fine,” she answers.

“Or here?” he asks as he moves back down her chest which still sports tender spots from his earlier ministrations.

Her nipples were so sensitive she had to fight to keep up their verbal sparring. "Everywhere but my mouth, you idiot. Don't you listen?"

“Believe me. Your mouth is the least interesting part from my point of view,” he mutters against her warm skin. “You sure do run it all the time though. It makes sense it needs a rest."

She growls low in her throat. "Says the one who won't _shut up_ and get on with it."

He’s not deterred. "Just mapping out the terrain as it were. Just because you rush head-first into a fire doesn't mean smart people do."

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she shut her mouth for once, but she finds it impossible when he’s around. "I can point out some places your lips can get acquainted with, like my _ass_." She's still in his lap but pivots to provide a better view.

“Oh honey. I don't need a map. You 've already told me to kiss your ass a handful of times but I didn't realize until right now that it was an invitation.”

She smiled at his stupidly quick wit. For all his trash talk, he never made her feel objectified or like he was only here for getting her half naked. She had been the one to seek him out after the first time. She initiated this and somehow felt beautiful and desired without feeling objectified or lusted over. That was different. _He was different._

"Leave the helmet off next time," she tells him. She wasn't sure how either one of them could think of _'next time'_ when _'this time'_ was taking over every sensory input; shrinking the entire sector to just this single room and their favorite chair.

……………….

A summer storm kept them inside most of the day the end of that first week and they exchanged stories over lunch. He'd cooked for them both. It was too salty for her taste, but she hasn't had anyone cook for her in ages and she ate every bite of it without complaint. Maybe people from the desert ate more salt than she was used to. He was a decent cook if she was honest. She’d never tell him that though. 

She talked about her years in the Nite Owls and how she was more than a fair swimmer. He told her of his childhood and the years of bounty hunting and the times he'd run jobs for the Empire and how it made him sick. "How did you pull it off without blasting their faces off?” she asked in genuine wonder. “How could you lie right to their face?" 

His great secret wasn’t that great of a secret apparently. "I made myself believe it,” he explains. “Deep down there all these things battling to be seen, but you can control what’s on the surface. If you control what's on the outside, you control how people react to you. The calm water on the surface doesn't always reflect the ocean raging underneath. You should know that pretty well."

She told him little bits of the clan she'd grown up with and the others she’d found over the years. 

He wasn't a Mandalorian by creed, but given what she knew of his upbringing, she'd never give him shit along those lines again. For his big talk and record of previous jobs he wasn’t a bad person. He was easy to talk to and hid real feelings behind sarcasm and dirty jokes—a tactic that was not unfamiliar to her. The more obnoxious he was about a topic the more she knew it hit too close to home—something else she understood that all too well. _Why couldn't she just hate him? It would be so much easier._ A quick distraction had become a quite regular distraction now. A single quick fumble were now nights of patient exploration and pleasure. A bit of fun screwing around was something she looked forward to even when they didn't so much as touch some nights.

_What the hell was she doing?_ The time chatting and getting to be brutally honest like she couldn’t with Bo-Katan was freeing. She felt lighter having someone else to share things with and not just because he had to pretend to listen to get in her pants. He was an attentive listener; he put pieces together and asked hard questions and engaged her. She'd prickle and bare her teeth when the questions got too much, but he'd back off just as quickly and change the subject without making a big deal about it. 

He needed the physical release as much as she did, but he also seemed to fall easily into the same domestic trap she had. They might have showed up for getting their rocks off, but ended up staying for everything else. Maybe there was more than just what was on the surface--for both of them. She even cooked once, and he had acted like he was being poisoned. She had given him a hard smack in retribution but her laughter had taken the sting out of it.

He wasn't conventionally handsome but he was very attractive, there was no denying it. Wide frame. Broad shoulders. His voice. His smile. His sense of humor--wry and witty. He thought fast on his feet. He kept up with her and made her fight to keep up with him. She didn’t realize she craved the back and forth they shared until she had it on a regular basis.

Some days they'd go out into the desert for target practice--loser cleaned armor that night. Other times they'd sit around one of the smaller cantinas telling stories or just idly shooting the shit to pass the time. They even managed to make it a couple of hour-stretches without insulting each other.   


Sometimes when they were antsy, they'd spar or pick a fight with some dumb villager stupid enough to challenge them, but there wasn't a schedule or any expectation whatsoever and maybe that's why they both seemed to look forward to it so much. There was no assumption of intimacy either though they barely made it a day or two before they found themselves staying in for the night to enjoy a very different sort of sparring than what happened in town. 

……..

It had been two solid weeks that they managed to find themselves back in her place to spend for evening hours. It was only after she didn't show her face in town one night did he venture to her apartment. She was especially charming that night when she opened the door. 

“You can fuck right off. I have my period tonight.”

“You think I'm afraid of a little blood?" 

“It's not blood you should be afraid of,” she tells him shortly, “it's my mood. All I want is chocolate and liquor. I'm more likely to take your head off than kiss you.”

“We're kissing now?”

She glared at him and when she didn't invite him in, he turned to leave. 

"I'll leave you alone then."

She realized was alone for the night for the first time in weeks and felt bad she’d been shorter than usual when he’d done nothing wrong. She’d never _apologize_ , but maybe she could do something halfway nice tomorrow if she remembered. 

A fist on her door makes her get out of bed almost an hour later. She wanted him to come back but she was angry that he actually had, and angry at herself for being happy at seeing him. 

“I told you I'm not in the moo—"

He cuts her off. “Not in the mod for chocolate and liquor? Here.”

He hands over a bag. It had a bottle with amber colored liquor and a sweet-smelling block of something wrapped in paper.

As soon as she takes it he turns to leave again.

"Wait. Where are you going?" she asks, genuinely confused.

“I was just dropping this off,” he tells her. “You said you weren't in the mood for company.” It was so strangely thoughtful she wasn't sure how to react to such a gesture.

"You know, I'd really _hate_ it if you stayed a while," she says, while opening the door for him. "You'd annoy me to no end, I'm sure."

"I don't want to impose."

"You're not," she assures him. He was doing whatever the opposite of imposing was. "You want a drink?" she holds up the bottle he brought.

He nods before stepping in and doffing his helmet. "We can split the bottle. It's good for numbing pain."

Her tongue is looser after several passes of the bottle. “You must have taken one too many hits to the helmet if you think I'm worth all this trouble,” she deadpans. “Or maybe you're just an idiot. I can be a real bitch.”

He doesn’t seem deterred by her weird mood. "Maybe I like a bit of trouble or maybe you're not as much of a bitch as you think you are."

_Maybe she liked a bit of trouble too._

They threw knives at a target on the wall until they were too drunk. When the liquor ran out, they played cards in bed where they fell asleep grumbling the whole time about who was taking up the most space. That had been the first time he spent the night.

…………………

"What are you doing Koska?" Bo-Katan asks her bluntly when they meet up next.

"What do you mean?" Koska responds. 

"I've seen you and Fett in town,” she states. “You were walking back to your place after dark. That man is without honor. He's not like us. Don't let him fool you."

Koska couldn’t believe she felt the need to stand up on his behalf. _She was getting soft._ "I know what he is and what he isn't, trust me."

"You're taking precautions, right?"

She felt oddly defensive at being surveilled by her friend. "We're not _fucking_. We're just having fun; getting each other off when we need to work off some tension. He's the most obnoxious man I've ever met.” _Every word she said was true. Well, true enough….._

"Your face looks like it's more than that,” her friend argues. “You've never been able to lie to me."

Koska scoffs. "Maybe I enjoy it... some...when he's not pissing me off and making me want to put a fist through his face."

Bo-Katan couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her friend happy. Content maybe.....but _happy_? Never.

"He's not coercing you, is he?” Bo asked her, barely concealing her concern. “Is he holding something over you?" _Koska might have been moved by her concern if it wasn’t so utterly ludicrous._

She laughed. "Hardly," she assures her friend. "I climbed on top of him." _Over and over in fact._ For all his blustering, he reached for her now. She was starting to live for the sight of his bare hands reaching out to her while his mouth spouted how much she annoyed him beyond belief. 

"Don't get attached,” the leader of their clan tells her. "Trust me. It'll only end badly, and you'll end up regretting it."

"Me? Attached to _him_?” she asks in disgust. “Don't be ridiculous."

…………….

"You feel so good," he croons against her bare neck. She's knows she's sweaty, but he doesn't seem to care. They were already more than half naked, but it wasn't enough.

"Shut up and take these off," she says impatiently, as her hands tug at his belt before getting to the buttons of his pants.

"Don't be rude, girl," he chides her.

"Don't call me _girl_ ," she snips as she tugs especially hard on a stubborn button.

"It's what you are..."

She growled at him, her temper flaring. "I am _not_."

"You don't feel like a boy from where I'm sitting." 

"Shut up and touch me," she seethed. She was too worked up for this. His hand that had been teasing her over her panties finally slipped inside and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning in relief as he eagerly spread her wetness with his bare fingers.

"Take those pants off before I walk out of here," she all but threatens him. "You're boring me."

"Yeah, you feel _really_ bored," he agreed smugly. Two of his fingers slid deep inside her and she felt herself tighten around them and she moaned.

In response to her encouraging sounds his fingertips swept over her slick sensitive flesh with more pressure than before. She was so wet. Her harsh words didn't match her plaint body at all and it irritated her that he knew it.... _that asshole._

"I tolerate you at best," she spits, but she's secretly proud at how her voice didn’t waver, considering how close she was getting.

"Is that what we're doing?" he asked, " _tolerating_ each other?" He actually had the audacity to chuckle at the description. 

"Barely."

He never asked for more. He could hide it under the pretense of whatever joke he wanted but it wasn't lost on her that he wasn't greedy when it really mattered. That was good. She was greedy enough for both of them.

"I hate you," she says as he pulled his hand away to get a better angle where his wrist wasn’t bent so weird.

"Of course you do,” he agrees amicably. “I hate you too. You're annoying and spoiled and full of shit."

"Shut the fuck up and get me off before I do it myself." By the time she was falling apart on his fingers that were so much stronger and thicker than her own she could hardly remember why she was supposed to hate him anymore. 

…………

The first time they had sex it wasn't in the chair after all. They'd both been so worked up and desperate for even the slightest relief they'd ended up on her bed without even realizing it. She would **_not_** kiss this asshole she had actually grown to care about. **She wouldn't** , but she had to bury her face in his neck to keep from being proven a liar. They'd stripped down and she'd climbed on top of him as his hands settled on her hips to help get her in the right spot, but she slapped his hands away impatiently. She balanced her weight on one hand while the other reached between them. When she finally sank down onto him she couldn't help but let her head fall back at the sensation, even though he'd probably make fun of her for it the first chance he got. She didn't care. It simply felt too good. 

"Could you possibly move any slower?" he complained from his position on his back underneath her. "I don't have all day." 

"Oh really? You got something better to be doing right now?" she asked in mock disbelief. He didn't use his grip on her hips to speed things along as she adjusted but his 'gentle words of encouragement’ got her to quicken the pace until they were both gasping for air.

Her legs were already getting tired. "You know you can give a little too?" she chided him, “unless you're not _up_ to it.”

"Learn some patience little one."

"You call me that again and you'll regret it."

"You talk a lot of shit for someone moaning like that"

"That's the best you got, old man? You _are_ getting soft."

From his position underneath her he gripped her hips to gain leverage to take over some. True to his word he didn't roll her but the upward force from his hips was enough to create a whole different angle--deeper, fuller, more connected in how they were working together. It didn't take long after that for either one of them. 

After their usual shit talk that was more like pillow talk died down, she realized he'd put his arm around her where she was sprawled across him. She knew she should tell him to leave but she simply didn't want to. His hand ran over her braids as he touched her face in the dark. "Don't mess up my hair," she scolds him. "It'll be a frizzy mess tomorrow."

“A stark improvement then?”

She hissed at him, “I’ll make you pay for that,” but didn’t move at all.

His arm dropped down to her lower back at her warning and while it was still warm, she missed the touch across her forehead. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and laid down across his chest, half tucked into his side, and went to sleep. 

She woke up in the middle of the night in a panic at someone in her bed until it all came rushing back--the warmth, the feelings of pleasure, the contentment. She laid back down where everything was soft and comfortable. Her brain briefly registered the mess she'd have to deal with later, but his chest was so warm that some lingering stickiness and ruined sheets could wait. His breathing was putting her back to sleep, so her bladder could wait a little longer too. This was probably a one-time thing, so she'd stretch it out as long as she could. She was no wilting flower but even the hardiest of plants deserved some sunshine every once in a while. It was probably just a one time thing, she reminded herself again. They scratched an itch that had been nagging them and that was it.

**It wasn't.**

The better part of a month went by much the same--easy days spent together and nights filled with making lo—sex. Nothing more than that; just nights filled with surprisingly tender and enjoyable intimacy for two such disagreeable and combative people who clearly hated each other’s guts.

She stood looking out the window just before the sun came up. She felt as he put his arm around her shoulders and across her collarbones and neck. She didn't startle at all by now. She always woke up first and he always called her out on it. Tonight though, she'd woken up for a different reason—something was on her mind. Her clan leader had met with her for what she thought was a mission meeting and blindsided her by laying out her evidence of how much time she’d been with the man standing behind her. She had made some pretty nasty accusations that he was taking advantage of her. Koska didn't think they were being watched on a daily basis but she had been wrong. If Bo-Katan thought there was something nefarious going on there's no limit to what she would pull.

"You're up before the sun,” Boba says close to her ear. “You should get more sleep so you don't kill someone today. You can be almost intimidating when you're irritable."

"You should leave before it gets late. We're getting sloppy," she tells him and cringes at how that sounded. There hadn't been a night since they first slept together that they hadn’t woken up together--their quick stolen moments were a thing of the past. She feels she owes him a better explanation. "Bo said she saw us together yesterday," she tells him. They weren't just getting sloppy when it came to prying eyes, but in how thinly veiled their insults were now. They'd gotten under each other’s skin and she didn't mean with words. 

"Your dirty secret is safe, don't worry," he assures her and while his voice doesn't sound offended, she knows he is. She can feel it. 

"That's not it.....it's not like that,” she says more firmly. “I'm not ashamed."

"You're kicking me out in the dead of night. If you wanted a quick fuck you could have just said so."

He sounded angry but not the kind of anger that used to fuel their blows. He sounded defensive, hurt almost.

"It's not like that,” she says again. “I don’t care what she thinks, but what she might _do_ is another story.”

His hold relaxes. “I'm not worried about your friend.”

“I know you could take her one on one, but you don't want to make an enemy of Bo-Katan. Trust me, she can be ruthless and malicious when she wants to be and she's getting suspicious."

“How sweet. You're worried about me,” he says sickeningly smug against the side of her face.

"Fuck off. I just don't want to scrape your brains off the floor."

He’s so damn smug she wants to punch him in the face. “Face it. You like me.”

"Ugh," she grumbled as she wrinkled up her nose. "Not a chance."

“Then come back to bed and I'll annoy you some more. There's room for you, me, _and_ your denial in there.”

................

The next time Bo Katan met her at the bar there was a sense of urgency she could see in her eyes. "We have to leave. There's a lead."

"When?" Koska asked, already feeling the dread in her stomach as if she knew the answer.

"Tomorrow."

………..

Not saying goodbye didn't sit well with her. Whatever this thing was it was one of the few good things she could count on one hand in a long, long time. 

"I'm leaving tomorrow,” she tells him that night.

"I see." He didn't say anything else, but he didn't have to. She wished she wasn't so good at reading him now. 

"Stay tonight?" she asks.

He nods. "I can do that."

They laid together that night for what they knew would be the last time. In the tangle of limbs, she managed to pull him on top of her as they made love and instead of feeling trapped, the weight grounded her. It kept her in the present. He immediately jerked to the side and off of her as soon as it registered she was under him. "Koska, what are you doing?" he asked in alarm at her unexpected change in position. He actually said her name in the shock of the moment. He almost never did. It was _honey_ , or _sweetheart_ or some other annoying thing he'd make up to get her going.

" **Don't,** " he tells her, when she shifts back under him. "I'm not worth it." 

"I can break my own rules," she insisted. "Shut up and let me kiss you. Unless you're opposed to the idea."

"Quite the opposite."

His lips were soft when she kissed them over and over. His mouth was gentle and his breath felt warm against her face. It was nice.

They ended up staying up the whole night talking and just being in the same space until the sun was peeking through the curtains and she couldn't put it off anymore. In a few hours she’d head out and it would be like these past six weeks never even happened. She doubted she’d left a mark on _him_ but he’d left one on her, even though nothing physical would linger after her departure. She almost wished he’d left some kind of mark or scar on her so she could remember the days where she’d broken all of her rules and not regretted it at all. "Touch me. Mess up my hair,” she encourages him, as his hands loosen up her perfectly maintained braids. “I don't care. I can fix it later.”

_Later_ she'd be gone and she'd put her armor back in place like she'd never taken it off.....the beskar too. 

.........................

"See you around," she manages as casually as she can manage as they stand by the door. 

"Yeah. The galaxy is pretty small. That'll definitely happen," he tries to joke but it falls flat. 

She's never bothered with a goodbye before and she was terrible at it. People come and go--no big deal. She doesn't know why this time is different. She does know actually, but it does her no good acknowledging it now.

"Take care of yourself," she tells him. She knows she has to leave but she's dragging her boots in the sand.

“Yeah,” he agrees. "You too." 

Neither one of them move from the doorway. "We never _did_ get to finish that fight, you know," he remembers aloud.

"Maybe next time," she suggests, knowing it'll probably never happen. 

"Don't lose your edge. I won't go easy on you," he tells her

"You mean I won't go easy on _you_?" she teases him.

"That mouth of yours will get you in trouble one day."

"You gonna to take your own advice?" she asks. "You're too old for trouble."

"Nah, I'm terrible at taking advice," he tells her. "I'm too stubborn, but there's still a chance for you. Don't let your anger or need to prove yourself control you. I've been there. I don't want to hear you got yourself killed because you couldn't back down from a fight that wasn't yours."

Usually, she'd bristle when anyone tried to tell her anything, but she supposed this one time she'd take it in the spirit in which it was given and not as a personal attack. "I'll consider it." She wondered if he knew just how much that admission meant to her. She wanted to argue or fight or have some kind of dialogue that felt normal for them, but she wasn't feeling it. She wanted to insult him one last time or hear him call her some ridiculous name but it wasn't going to happen. She didn't want it to end like this, but time was up. He knew it too. 

"Goodbye Koska."

"Goodbye."

……………

The walk back into town with everything in her bag over her shoulder was like a blur. She was glad the desert air was so dry that there was no evidence of her loss on her face. She didn't _lose_ it, she thought angrily--she walked away from it, but somehow that didn't make it feel any less painful. Painful wasn't even the right word. She was _disappointed_ that Bo had been proven right--except for one thing--she _hadn't_ regretted it at all. There was work to do, missions to plan, and battles to fight. She'd be over it soon enough.

She thought of the silver plated Mandalorian and his dark-haired companion and the way they looked at each other after keeping a distance between them for so long. She’d thought them the biggest idiots in this sector, but she was just as big a fool. She wasn't sad at losing a man--that was _ridiculous_. She was sad at the loss of a companion though; a _friend_ if she admitted it. Someone she could talk to and spend time with without having to be on guard and posture all the time. She was leaving a part of herself behind that hadn't seen the light of day in years and as soon as she had felt she could open up even a sliver she'd had to armor up and close back down again tighter than before. She had to admit the last month had certainly not gone how she expected. She'd never be one of those horrible pathetic women who sobbed and wailed or caused a scene, but she could admit that saying goodbye sucked _slightly_ more than the thought it would. She shook her head to clear it. It was time to re-group and head out for the next mission so she searched for her friend back at the main spaceport like the message had said.

........................................

"I think I messed up," she says once they're sitting down with dinner in front of them.

Her friend and leader's eyes widen as she fills in the blanks. 

"Shit, Koska," she curses. "What have you done? Do you know how hard this is going to be for you? How far along are you?"

"Wai--what?" she asks, between bites. She has no clue what she’s talking about.

"We'll figure out what to do after I kill that bastard."

"What are you talking about?" she asks, totally confused. “Figure out what?”

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

She almost chokes on her own spit long after she swallowed her food. "No. Certainly not."

_Worse maybe. I think I love that asshole. I think I found something I didn't want to find and now it’s over. We didn't even get to see it crash and burn._

"I just……got too close," she tries to explain. "I shouldn't have gotten attached. You were right." Playing the victim and letting her Bo-Katan think she was wise and all-knowing always worked in her favor.

Bo had the strangest look on her face as she scrutinized her. It was like she had never really seen her before as anything more than her friend or her teammate. Maybe she hadn’t. 

“You looked really content the last few weeks, Reeves. I'm happy for you,” she tells her a little stiffly, but full of sincerity.

"Don't be," Koska snaps, meaner than she intends. "We're leaving. Whatever it was, it's over." If she says it harshly enough, maybe it'll make it easier. Maybe she can sleep at night without feeling like she made the wrong choice. She'd follow her clan and its leader anywhere, but it was at her own expense now. Her loyalty had never really been tested before and it scared her how easy it would be to choose something for herself instead.

“Maybe you'll see him again....” her friend tried to comfort her, though she knew they were empty words.

"I won't," she cuts her off, before this gets any more awkward. _It's over, despite it being the one thing she had wanted to hold onto in years. The sooner she puts it behind her, the better._

“Are you okay?”

Koska collects herself and puts on her best face before she looks her lifelong friend in the eye, just as she’d done a thousand times before when they'd shared everything. She opens her mouth but is surprised at what comes out.

"It didn't mean anything to either of us," she tells her, looking her straight in the eye. "It was just a bit of fun to fill the time and I was getting bored anyway." That was the first time she ever lied straight to Bo-Katan's face, but it wouldn’t be the last.

………………

Who knows? There was a chance she'd cross paths with him one day on another fool's errand. There were so few Mandalorians out there and even fewer allies, so it wasn't out of the question she'd see his smug face again. Stranger things had happened......

**Author's Note:**

> Back to regularly scheduled programming next: CaraDin one shots and a post season two series that already has a frighteningly long outline. I had to get this idea out of my head and it feels so good to be free lol :D


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